


60 Ways for the Story to Go (60 Drabbles)

by SinOfPride



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe, Drabble Collection, F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-02-11
Updated: 2012-02-11
Packaged: 2017-10-30 23:27:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,896
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/337342
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SinOfPride/pseuds/SinOfPride
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>60 drabbles of 100 words or less. Sam isn't sure when it happened, how he didn't hear.</p>
            </blockquote>





	60 Ways for the Story to Go (60 Drabbles)

**Author's Note:**

> In no particular order, some of these hold vague hints of sex, violence, non-con, character death, incest, s/d, genderswitch. Spoilers in some through Seasons 1 and 2.

[1]  
Sam isn't sure when it happened, how he didn't hear, only that when he retraced his steps the werewolf was long gone and Dean wasn't beside him anymore. He finds him beneath an oak tree, curled in on himself in a puddle of blood, face still, arms stretched out, too pale, too wrong, too late.

[2]  
When Sam was three, he wandered away instead of waiting for his Dad inside the car and taking care of Dean like he'd been told to. He stepped out of the car and walked right to a pretty blonde woman that smiled like the sun and smelled a little like vanilla and asked her real nice if she could please go take care of his brother, 'cause he was sick and kept crying quietly for Mommy.

[3]  
Dean doesn't know how to deal the day he's forced to see how good a job he did in raising Sam to be independent, strong, smart, worthy, everything Dean's not, by way of Sammy walking out the door without a look, a glance, a thought for the one whose whole life was forged around keeping Sammy close, happy, safe. 

[4]  
It's not romantic, their first kiss, because Dean-for the first he can ever remember- is crying real heaving sobs that Sam doesn't know how to stop, how to quieten, how to make better, so he presses his lips to Dean's, holds him tight, holds him close and tries to swallow that quiet grief the only way he can think of.

[5]  
Sam dreams of a nursery and a pretty, blonde, green-eyed baby gurgling happily up at a man with blood on his finger and yellow in the eyes; later, he doesn't answer Dean when he asks about why Sam's staring at him with such a calculating look.

[6]  
Bobby's not stupid and neither is he blind. 

He knows what Sam and Dean do when nobody else is looking, knows what those looks between them mean, knows why Dean's so protective, why Sam's so possessive. He also saw those boys grow up, saw Dean's eyes as dead as a veteran's at fifteen, Sam's anger as deathly as a killer's at seventeen, sees them as good men, together and still alive now, so he pretends to be stupid and blind both as long as those boys can finally get some peace in this war.

[7]  
It'll be fun, Dean says with a grin that doesn't hide the turmoil of asking this of Sam after San Francisco. But Bobby's asked them and they owe too much to say no, so Sam says yes and the werewolf hunt is on. Later, when Dean's features are cold, grey and eerily still in the green grass, Sam will think of that grin right before he kills the wolf with one silver bullet and he'll lay down next to Dean before using another.

[8]  
Sam remembers a time when he was locked out of his brother's eyes and mind, can remember a time when touch, the allowance to draw him close wasn't there and he's so _grateful_ every time Dean smiles up at him now and Sam doesn't have to guess why he's happy, when Dean is hurt and Sam is finally allowed to make it better.

[9]  
Dean's fourteen when John leaves them alone for too long. 

The food completely runs out long after Dean stopped eating it, and he has to be a man, a provider for Sam, the only way a pretty fourteen year old could in the washed-up town Dad left them at. Later there's food on the table and he doesn't cry, doesn't break, not until Sammy climbs into his bed that night and tells him he's so proud of him and it's okay, it'll be okay.

[10]  
In another world, Sam died when he was twelve and Dean's sixteen when he has to be locked in an institution after killing his father in cold blood, murmuring about his little brother's ghost wanting revenge and having to make Sammy happy, always, Daddy said.

[11]  
The memory of holding Dean in his arms for the very first time, wrinkled little _perfect_ boy, his boy, is at the foremost of his mind when he sends Sam out on his errand to gather the supplies, but it's the image of Dean's wide, frightened, _broken_ adult eyes the one that follows him to hell.

[12]  
Sam misses his brother like he never has before; not like when Dean went hunting with Dad when they were kids, not like in Stanford, not even like when Dean was in a coma. 

It's worse because he's right next to him, open, fractured eyes looking straight _through_ him, broken, fractured mind lost forever. Dean's just this pretty shell now, just a body Sam takes care of 'cause he misses his brother too much to leave what's left of him behind.

[13]  
The day the crossroad's deal is nullified, Sam lays down and sleeps for three days straight; wakes up to find Dean curled up over him, stress-lines Sam hadn't noticed were there finally gone form his features and Sam's feels like the cost, eternal, burning cost Dean will never know about was worth it.

[14]  
He has to admire the way Dean commits to their lifestyle, blindly, faithfully, wholeheartedly, and he does, is jealous of it right until Dean turns eighteen and Sam finds him sitting in the front porch of their rental home, whispering to himself 'I can do this, just tell dad I got accepted, he'll be proud, he has to be' and Sam never did find out where Dean was accepted, just that Dad never knew.

[15]  
It took one blow, Sam thinks hollowly, one wrong way to hit the mausoleum's wall while Sam threw the match into the open grave, and now Dean's so still in that hospital bed, pale and peaceful and empty, the words 'permanent brain damage' like a tattoo on Sam's heart.

[16]  
The day Dean comes back for him at Stanford, Sam barely hears his words, too busy staring at him, then at Jess' pretty blonde hair, bright eyes, curious smile, the tilt of her head, the arch of her eyebrow and thinking _dear god_ because it's like looking at all the pieces of what Sam had always wanted, scattered, divided into two people and _didn't they even share a birthday?_

[17]  
Sam doesn't remember, but when he was two he watched IT with his six year old brother when they were supposed to be asleep, and they both had nightmares so ugly, Dean had to consciously teach himself to not fear clowns just so he could promise his little brother to protect him from them. 

[18]  
There are such things as alternate universes the same as there are such things as vampires and in one of many of them where Sam was the oldest and Dean the youngest, when Sam left for Stanford without a word, just ran, Dad found Dean hanging from the living room when he came back from the bar. 

[19]  
Sam's good at expressing feelings, words, skills, smarts like they're there for the world to see, acknowledge, encourage. 

Dad's the only one that sees Dean's held-back tears, his ease at building things from scratch, his quiet defiance, his dreams, his thoughts, without Dean needing to shout; Dad learnt to see when Dean was four and silent, too silent, and Dean loves him more than anything just for that.

[20]  
Sam tells himself it's just a normal, human reaction, the time they have to share a bed and he wakes up draped over Dean's back, cock hard and nestled on his brother's ass. It works for five minutes, but when he can't bring himself to move even half an hour later, still hard with Dean sleeping blissfully unaware in his arms, he thinks he might have a problem.

[21]  
He knows that love hurts- Mom and Sammy lost in their own ways- but doesn't realize that's what he felt for Cassie until she was slamming the door on his face and screaming hurtful things with the same mouth he had kissed that morning. He thinks then- while trying to hold back tears in the Impala so Dad won't know Dean almost betrayed him for someone like Cassie- that Tennyson was full of shit. Better not to have loved at all.

[22]  
The day he finds out he's gay/bi/somehow-not-straight never really comes, but he does come to realize he's only ever felt loved with a man the moment when Sam leans over the table at a diner and makes Dean forget all about the waitress he'd been flirting with by kissing him breathless. 

[23]  
Sam slept with two guys and three girls before Dean, but never volunteers that information. He just relishes in the _certainty_ he's the only one to have ever stretched Dean open with practiced ease and slipped inside his warmth, countless girls before Sam not important when Dean looks up at him with wide, loving eyes.

[24]  
It's not even that bad, Dean thinks, staring down at Sam's body and carefully stitching the wound that killed his brother closed with the all the care, love and devotion no other human being will ever get from Dean Winchester again.

[25]  
Sam knows he sometimes takes his anger out on Dean when his brother doesn't deserve it, but it's always been fine before the moment where the words ' _don't you see he's turned you into a replacement for Mom?_ ' leave his lips, and he sees the colour fade from his brother's face at the same time he sees a light- a hope- go out in his eyes. Dean will later forgive him, but Sam never does see that light come back.

[26]  
When Dean is ten, the boys at school make fun of him for taking care of Sammy, but Sammy loves him more than anything- more then he does Dad- and it doesn't matter what the stupid boys say, 'cause they'll be gone in a few weeks and Sammy will be there forever.

[27]  
Dean doesn't realize how much Sam holds back from him until he has Sam laid out before him, hungry cat-like eyes trained on Dean's and it's all there; all his darkness in his eyes, his light in his touch, his thoughts on his face, his heart on his mouth and Dean thinks _well, damn, no wonder Sammy's so big to hold all of it in._

[28]  
Dean wants a puppy. Dean, who never asked for one when they were little 'cause he knew it couldn't happen, who never got one for himself, who never thought of it in years or said anything about liking dogs before, out of the blue the day after he's freed from hell, whispers to no one in particular that he'd like a puppy. And Sam, after fighting heaven and hell for his brother's life and soul, holds him close and promises that _anything_ in the world is Dean's and if he wants a fucking puppy he's damn well getting one today.

[29]  
Sam killed Dean when he was nine years old. 

Scared breathless of a monster in his closet and gripping the gun Dad had given him, he'd heard a noise near his bed and didn't even stop to think about shooting, just did. Maybe if he'd thought about it, he'd have known Dean could have heard him crying and would want to check on him like usual. Maybe then his big brother wouldn't have been lying quietly at Sammy's feet, a little hole in his pale forehead and his open eyes staring at him, concerned.

[30]  
John dreamt once that Mary had left him after Dean had been born, and they were both living happy and safe somewhere that looked like home, where Dean grew up without shadows in his eyes and wasn't trained to fight monsters or made to raise a brother. 

When he woke, he didn't know if he should feel guiltier about his dream not having even included Sam, about how different the Dean in his dream was to the one he'd raised or about the sad smile lingering on his face.

[31]  
Sam doesn't take seriously Dean's teasing about being a huge sasquatch until the day Dean wakes up like a little kid and Sam can't find a way to hold him in his arms without being terrified he'd crush him or hurt him or drop him and his hands can encircle his now younger brother whole. 

[32]  
He only does it that first time to experiment, to prove a point and have Dean at his mercy for once. But once they're spent and Dean has begged so prettily, given in so completely, helpless to do much else than take what Sam gave him, it wasn't a game anymore, not with the veiled gratitude in Dean's eyes, not with the spark of possessiveness the sight of those marks on Dean's skin stirred in him. 

[33]  
Sam's short of his ninth birthday, so Dean's just turned thirteen the first time Sam notices a guy eyeing his brother _wrong_. 

He doesn't get it until that same guy tries to grab Dean at a gas station and Sam screams for Dad just in time for John to interferer and beat the guy to a pulp. Sam's seventeen the first time _he_ has to beat someone at a bar, someone who drugged his brother with that same look in the eye, and ten years later Sam's still careful, protective, 'cause Dean doesn't even realize the _want_ he draws sometimes.

[34]  
Faith is something he lost long ago, in a fire that was his mother's cremation, but he still knows- has to- the words of all the prayers. And maybe they ring hollow, but it's still the mantra going through his head as he watches the doctors try to bring Dad back; one more shock to the heart it's another pater noster.

[35]  
Birthdays were never a big deal in their family, but it wasn't until he'd gotten home from a party thrown by his college friends that he realized he missed the little gifts Dean would leave in his bed, their big breakfast together in some diner and Dean's proud smile. Somehow, it's because he misses it that he doesn't answer the calls when they come.

[36]  
They're silent and stealthy and careful, but they still wake up Daddy when they try to sneak into his bed to wish him a happy Father's Day with colourful nonsense cards little five year old Dean helped Sammy make last night.

[37]  
Dean whimpers in his sleep sometimes, quiet distressed sounds as he curls into himself, face twisted in pain or fear or grief and he wakes up quietly, eyes snapping open without a scream or a gasp of air or anything so dramatic; Sam is pained to realize he's never been the only one with nightmares and it's taken him over twenty years to be the one Dean could turn to for comfort.

[38]  
John looks away every time Dean goes quiet and still, every time he stops teasing and pretending and showing off his bravado, because it feels like it's the only times he sees his eldest son's real face anymore and he's so _scared_ , John feels like a failure every time.

[39]  
Sam's first date was Dean, not because of some twisted child-incest thing, but because Mrs. Francis asked them to spend Valentine's day with the most special person they could think of, and Sam took Dean to the park so they could play catch like Sammy rarely wanted to.

[40]  
Somewhere, when Sam is six, John takes Dean for a hunt and never returns. Dean is found a month later, wandering alone and so traumatized he was never the same again. 

Sam doesn't mourn. Six years old but he doesn't mourn. He learns to take care of his brother, learns how to stand on his own and the minute he's sixteen, he leaves. Packs their bags and runs away from Pastor Jim and the hunters that raised them, runs somewhere quiet and safe where he can soothe Dean's nightmares promising _it wasn't real_. Runs somewhere where it was just a nightmare.

[41]  
He wakes up one day and when he looks at people he sees only their weaknesses. He knows he can kill them all, knows how to do it, wants to. Then he looks at Dean, talking animatedly to him from his spot on the wheel and thinks _mine_ as he raises a hand to lay it on the back of Dean's neck, just carefully holding him.

[42]  
Dean found the letter from Stanford the day before he broke Sammy's leg, murmuring promises that terrified Sam more than they soothed him.

[43]  
Jess was everything he ever dreamed of, which is why he can't fathom why when he thinks of her now he feels only grief and when Dean pushes him against a wall, he feels happy.

[44]  
Three weeks after arriving in California, Sam ran into a guy trying to force a blonde girl into an alley. 

When he got home, bloodied knuckles dripping, he dialled his older sister's number, numb at the realization that he'd left her behind just as he'd left Dad; Dana had no one at her back in bars now, didn't have him to run interference those times Dad's eyes lingered for too long on her. So he called Dana- to say what, he didn't know, to explain how, he didn't know- and tried not to feel relieved when she never picked up.

[45]  
Dean does notices the looks he gets, how can he not, but what Sam doesn't get is that he can't let himself fear their lust, their darkness; these are the people he's supposed to save- the purpose of the hunt- and if he thinks of them as the real monsters then he just won't care anymore, it just won't matter and what else has he got?

[46]  
He still thinks it's a little funny, his badass brother so terrified of flying even after performing an exorcism on a plane, but as Dean grips the armrests just that much tighter, his face blanching in real fear as he tries humming to himself, Sam can't help touching his arm, a steadying grip, and murmur _'it's okay man, we'll land soon I promise.'_

[47]  
It's not like it's easy, pushing the hunts behind them, never has been, but Dean wishes it could hurt just a little less as he hears his brother's ragged breathing even above the sounds of the shower running in their tiny room’s bathroom.

[48]  
Dean tries to tell himself it's normal when he starts seeing things that shouldn't be there- dead people whispering, his father yelling, his brother bleeding- does right until Sam's got him huddled into his arms and is whispering reassurances into his hair, promising it'll be okay, they'll figure it out, they'll make it better, just shhh, stop screaming Dean, it'll be ok.

[49]  
It's not that Sam hates their father because he doesn't, it's not that he resents his childhood, because travelling aside it wasn't so bad, but it's like a shadow on the back of his mind, a knowledge that he is meant for something bigger, something crucial, something he needs to save his family from.

[50]  
It's one of those random things he finds out without meaning to, something else he should have known about his brother but didn't in the life they lead. They're in the middle of a hunt, a friend of Bobby's having lent them a cabin, and after going to get some wood outside he comes back to find Dean cradling an old, worn guitar in his lap, softly playing the intro notes of Stairway To Heaven like he's known them all his life.

[51]  
He labels it love because that's all it seems to fit, but he doesn't remember this intensity, this urgent, consuming need of one another ever having touched Jess' image, can't imagine ever being able to desire another person like he does Dean, cannot think of ever feeling so in sync, so _inside_ another as he does with Dean. But is it love because it has to be? he wonders and it scares him.

[52]  
When Dean came back from the solitary cell, Sam pretended not to notice the bruises that hadn't been there even after the fight with 'tiny' and tells himself Dean isn't walking any different, he isn't, his brother wouldn't let that happen.

[53]  
It takes too long hours to find Dean hanging by his wrists in a filthy abandoned building, but it takes less than a minute for Sam to realize his brother's lost for good.

[54]  
They hadn't expected it when Dean's soul was claimed not by hellhounds or death or the bitch coming back to collect it. On the 365th day after Dean's deal, Sam looks into his brother's smirking face looming above his and there's nothing there but ruthless cruelty, no soul, no humanity left and he wonders, for a second, why they never considered Dean might have a destiny alongside Sam's.

[55]  
Social services did a good job, taking Sam and Dean Winchester away from their abusive, absentee father, or so they thought until twelve year old Dean ran away from his foster home, kidnapped his brother and disappeared for months until they were both found, long dead, huddling together for warmth that wouldn't come in a dark alley in Illinois.

[56]  
Sam thinks he finally understands why Mary had to say _I'm sorry_ to the son she never met, while Dean stared at her ghost with stricken eyes when she had nothing for him, the one that remembered her so dearly. He understands, but he doesn't think he forgives neither her fault nor her silence.

[57]  
He didn't really mind Dean's music before, much as he'd liked teasing his brother about it, but now he feels sick every time he feeds a tape into the Impala's deck and sees his brother's empty gaze focus in some distant point and that little smile play around lips that have forgotten all the words. 

[58]  
Dean learnt to play the guitar when he was sixteen and Susie Harrell thought he was in a band, which had him bluffing his way through Nothing Else Matters before kissing her mute. After, he taught himself his favourite songs whenever he could, sang quietly and imagined the notes when he couldn't and didn't tell anyone because, who cared? Except that when Sammy started clapping after Dean had played Stairway to Heaven complete, he couldn't help the blush, the flustered stammering, or the pride.

[59]  
The night he gets lost in the woods when he's thirteen, Dean whispers to himself that it's fine, his Dad will find him, he will, except he doesn't until the sun is up, the creature is dead and Dad wasn't sure if Dean was alive or dead but he'd finished the hunt either way.

[60]  
It's not in the words anymore, not even in the glances- it's just in the awareness of each other and the skin to skin contact that both literally and figuratively strips down all their barriers, all their bullshit 'till it's just them, together, united, just each other against the world.

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted at http://sin-of-pride.livejournal.com/73989.html


End file.
